Deaths
by DarkBlueMahogany
Summary: Title said it all.
1. Riven

Riven always knew that he will die young. He still didn't want to go without a fight, so he tried to make himself well skilled warrior. And gods, he did succeed. He was a swordman, he knew all of the guns. Yet he could take a piece of mirror and make it most deadly weapon. He killed with shatered glass, he broke necks using one arm. His teeth were put in good use as well. Sharp and practised, they could bite into the flesh of the enemy and rip it from the rest of the body. Even that wasn't all. He was able to rip a heart from victims chest, he could lay punch where needed, he could make apoiments twice his size to kneel in pain before him. Yes, after a few years, Riven thought that his prophetic instincts were wrong. He may be able to live a bit longer. Maybe even long enough to graduate Red Fountain. After all, he was a killer himself, why wouldn't be able to fight others? Ah, little did he now that the danger was never in the others, it was never in a battle are lust was revenge. It was in him. That little glimmer of hmanity withing his dark soul, it killed him. All of the shadows, the blackness inside him, none of that could save him from that little noble light that was hidden. He didn't even knew that it was there. But it was, and it was the only weapon that could send him into death. Riven coughed out some more blood, crimson sirup was hardening his already light breathing. He grinned morbidly as he thought of the irony. He had spent his life in training to be a murder so he could avoid death, and then, he willingly embraced it.

„Are.. you all... okay?" He mamaged to choke as his team layed him on safe ground. Something warm and wet fell on his bloody cheek. His tired eyes opened again and he was startled to realize that Sky was crying. „Yep, Riv. We're okay"

Riven's lips curved into a weak smile before he gave in. During that brief last breath, he felt that shadows, that were following him for seventeen years, left, and the light withing him shined.

He died smiling.


	2. Sky

„Any last words, royal scum?" Sky glared at Christian Morgenfeld, the person he though was noble. But he was a traidor. In the red lights of fire that was destroying the palace of Eraklion, his face seemed wicked and ugly, as his it was presenting his soul. Sky spat mouthfull of blood at his shoes before answering silently, but with poison dripping out every word „I will hunt you, Morgenfeld" Christion laughed „Let him down!" The guards, who once made a vow to protect royals of Eraklion, let go of Sky's shoulders. Weaked and wounded, Prince fell on his knees. Taler man slowly rose his dagger, but after thinking about it for a second, he let it down. „No" he said happily „I will share the pleasure of seeing your dead body hitting the floor" he turned to the guards that were now, willingly, his „Take him to the main balcony!" Sky's heart pounded in horror as he realized that he will be given a public death. It was the most terrible thing Christopher could do to him. He strugled as he was led towards the balcony where his father once spoke to his people. His father... Where was he? Where was his mother?! As the bloody scenarios croosed his mind, the sun light hit his eyes. They were out, facing the entire Eraklion population. People were silent. No angry growls, no complaiments, no tears. Just silent observing. Somehow, Sky felt betraid. Christopher started to speak „Hear me now, Eraklion, and hear me well! I am your ruler now! This is the only living member of Platinum family!" Only living... his parents were realy dead! „And I will take care of that now." Two servants ran towards him and handed him a heavy platinum sword. The sword of platinum family. Prince's azure eyes filled with horror when he realized that traidor will use the most importand part of his legacy to take his life. Remembering that the entire world was watching, there were cameras everywhere, he used every atom of strenth he owned and stood up straight. Christian wasted no more time, he stabbed Prince's heart. Turned the blade a bit left and a bit right before taking it out. Prince screamed in pain. The birds flew. Sky died. Sky turned red.


	3. Helia

Helia ran through streets of Magix. He had to meet up with Timmy and Brandon. Hot tears burned his face but he couldn't stop and mourn the loss of another friend. The problem was that he couldn't run much longer. His lungs ached for air, his body was exhausted, his mind was numb. The bullets sang around him. Bullets? Helia was pacifist in soul, but even as he learned how to fight, he didn't like guns, he thought that sword was the only way to fight with nobillity. Not that these guys care about it. Suddenly a sharp, hot pain went through his leg. Helia crmbled to the floor. 'No... it can't be the end' he tried to move. What would Riven do? He would countinue to run even if he had bulets in both legs. No, he would turn around and kill those bastards even if he had his heart ripped out of his chest. Another tear fel down. Helia couldn't do that. He tried to get on his knees, when a foot steps came close. A black leather boot placed it's heel on his hand, crushing it's ankle. Helia winced in pain. He turned and saw a barrel of gun getting closer and closer "No... it's not fair" he felt cold metal on his sweaty forehead "Cheaters" he wispered. Then he knew no more.


	4. Timmy

Timmy coughed. The fire was everywhere, he couldn't breathe. The door finally gave up and he was out his burning apartment, in cold night air. But his frozen blood had nothing to do with the weather. It had to do something with the fact that he forgot to take his guns. And since the fire could not be an accident... A ounch at the back of his head was no suprise.

„Where is Brandon!" Timmy was hanging upside down in a cold room that was, judging by the red stains on the walls, torture room. A blade, that was previously put in fire, made another cut in his abdomen „I don't know!" he screamed „I don't know, I don't know!" He hated the sound of pleading in his voice, but he couldn't help it. The pain was almost unbearable. The man holding the knife snikered „We know that, dear child" he made another cut, causeing Timmy to cry out „We just want to play, you know?" Now it was a punch that broke his know. Timmy was blinded in pain, but he continued to listen „You made a lot of enemies for your twenty years, got that? Well, one of them paid us to kill you, but nobody says that we can't have our fun, right?" The man took his left arm and roughly broke it. Timmy screamed. „Please, stop" he whispered. Someone in the crowd surrounding him stood up „Dude, just kill him already, I am getting bored" The man that was torturing him for hours growled, but obviously decided to obey „You are luck guy, ya know that?" Before Timmy could say something about the absurd of that sentence, his neck got broken as well. His body was found next morning in the Magix lake.


	5. Brandon

Bradon layed in his bed, his hand wrapped around the another blonde he took after night in the clubs. This one looked like Stella a lot, hell, Stella-like ones were the only he was about to accept, but he had to say that her eyes were wrong. They were simply light brown, not yellow like in the girl he was forced to leave then hislife got more expencive then her evening dress. Chocolate haired man sat in the bed, tempting to get up and make some coffie, he almost gave up food, put the girl woke up. She streched moved towards him. She had no clothing on her. Her hand got under the blanket covering them and started to tease his nude body. Brandon frowned. He didn't want to have sex with her again. He didn't want to waste his life in alchohol and random women, he didn't want to live as a mercenary, and he didn't want to change apartments every week in order to avoid those fanatic servants of Morgenfeld. But what choice did he have? His life started to crumle the moment Riven died in their second year of Red Fountain. That memory ached his heart. Riven gave his live so that they could live their's, and Brandon was throwing all of that away. Right now he was a man in his mid thirties, whose friend were dead long time ago. He didn't bother to make new ones. He lived from day to day, on coffie and whiskey. Speaking of which... He took a bottle that was on his night table and drank all of it as woman continud her teasing. There. Now he was sure that memories of his other dead friends, and there were four of them, won't bother him for at least an hour. Suddenly blonde looked way more hotter. She looked at his face, pleased to see him turned on finally. He took her face and kissed her roughly, glaring at her yellow eyes. His lips went lower on her neck. As the intercourse started, he murmured „Stella..." the woman wasn't offended, since she misunderstood „Yeah, I am one hell of a star..." that was when she screamed. Brandon turned around to see seven men breaking the door of his appartment. The tallest withing them rose a hand with a gun in it. First bullet hit the blonde and second hit Brandon's neck. As he holded his hand on the wound, even with his mind slugish in the haze of alchohol, he wished a bit more of his life. He abused it, he misstreated it, but he wanted more of it.

You can't always get what you want.


End file.
